[A\N: The last chapter 18 was the draft I was writing, but this is the real chapter 18. The draft will be removed shortly. Currently, I am a bit rusty. Hopefully, my storywriting gets better than before. Also, let me know if I should keep the new writing style or go back to the older one. Peace and enjoy the story~]
I feel pain all over my body as I look at the purple-haired beauty. She drives my head to the ground with her spear.
"Stop gwaking. Stand up and fight me properly," orders the she-demon.
Getting ready to fight, I stand up once again. I feel an ache in the muscles that I didn't know I had.
I take my stance and ready my spear. The demon invites me to attack her.
-------------
Once upon a time, there lived a foolish hero. He held a great power but lacked control. So he set out to find a suitable teacher. The teacher has taught many before him. He had found her location by accident. But she lived across the great ocean. So the hero left his family, friends, and lover to find the great teacher.
He mounted a great beast that flew him across the ocean and found her homeland.
There, her home was occupied by a terrible demon.
The demon was none other than me. Or rather, the Nameless Heroic Spirit that represented my lack of control. The System had placed me in a simulation of Scáthach's realm, where I would face the ultimate test: learning to master my power under the woman who had trained Cu Chulainn.
"Scáthach," I say, my voice hoarse from the beating. "I've come to learn."
The purple-haired warrior goddess smirks, twirling her spear with deadly grace. "You have guts, boy. But guts alone won't save you from yourself. Now fight!"
She lunges at me again, her spear a blur of purple light. I barely manage to raise my Gae Bolg in time, the impact sending shockwaves through my already battered body. This time, I don't just block—I analyze. The skill had been acting differently lately, as if the constant pressure was forcing it to evolve on its own.
Her fighting style is brutal efficiency. Every movement serves a purpose. Every strike aims for the kill. Unlike my assassin-style training with the First Hassan, she fights with overwhelming power and precision.
I try to counterattack, but she reads my movements and redirects my spear with a twist of her wrist. I go flying again, crashing into the sword-covered ground.
"Pathetic!" she barks, but there's a glint of approval in her eyes. "You survived longer than the last one. But surviving isn't enough. You must learn to control that power you wield."
She gestures to the sky, where I can see the outline of my Reality Marble pressing against the boundaries of her domain. "That power of yours—the Imaginary Sword—it's wild. Unrefined. You're like a child playing with a nuclear weapon."
"I know," I admit, pushing myself up. "That's why I'm here."Scáthach nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Good. At least you're not arrogant enough to think you've mastered it. Come. We have much work to do."
----------
The first month was nothing but defeat.
Every day, Scáthach would dismantle me in combat. Every stance I took, she broke. Every technique I attempted, she countered before I could complete the motion. She moved like a force of nature—unrelenting, precise, absolute.
I lost count of how many times I hit the ground. How many bones I felt crack under her strikes. How many times I woke up in a pool of my own blood, only for her to be standing over me, spear tip at my throat, demanding I rise again.
"You rely on your regeneration too much," she said during one of those early sessions, watching me drag myself upright. "You think because you can heal, you can afford to be careless. That mindset will get you killed against an opponent who can erase you entirely."
I learned quickly that Scáthach did not teach through words alone. She taught through impact. Through pain. Through the brutal repetition of failure until my body understood what my mind could not yet grasp.
----------
The next five months passed in a structured crucible of training. Scáthach's realm existed outside of normal time, allowing me to train without the System's update timer affecting me—or so I thought.
My days followed a strict routine:
**Morning: Physical Conditioning and Spear Mastery**
Scáthach drilled me in the fundamentals of spear combat until my muscles screamed and my hands blistered and calloused over a hundred times. She taught me to wield Gae Bolg not as a projectile weapon but as an extension of my own skeleton—every thrust, every sweep, every feint flowing from instinct rather than thought.
"Cu Chulainn was a prodigy," she told me during one session, disarming me for the seventieth time that morning. "He learned fast because his body was born for war. You are not a prodigy, Shirou. You are a craftsman. You build understanding piece by piece. That makes you slower to learn—but once you learn, you do not forget."
She forced me to fight with my eyes closed. To sense the flow of mana in her movements rather than relying on sight. To predict where her spear would be before it arrived.
I failed. Again and again. And each failure taught me something new.
**Afternoon: Magecraft Refinement and Rune Integration**
Scáthach's knowledge of rune magecraft surpassed anything I had encountered. She taught me the deeper meanings behind each rune—not just their mechanical effects, but their philosophical foundations. Ansuz for communication and divine inspiration. Thurisaz for reactive defense and destruction. Dagaz for transformation and breakthrough.
I learned to weave runes into my combat flow, layering them over my projections and spells without breaking concentration. My Space-Lock became more refined—no longer a crude separation but a precise tool I could shape and maintain for extended periods.
The most difficult lessons involved my Reality Marble. Scáthach had me deploy it in controlled bursts, then maintain it under combat pressure, then fight within it while keeping its boundaries stable.
"Your Reality Marble is not a finished weapon," she explained. "It is a forge. A workshop. You must learn to use it as a foundation rather than a crutch."
I practiced infusing my projections with the Marble's nature, creating weapons that resonated with my inner world. The process was exhausting, but each attempt brought me closer to stability.
**Evening: Spiritual Cultivation and Soul Conditioning**
This was the most painful part of each day.
Scáthach guided me through exercises designed to strengthen my soul directly. The Heart of ORT's influence still pulsed within me, a foreign presence that I had learned to coexist with but not truly integrate. She taught me to map my spiritual core, to identify where the alien essence touched my own, and to gradually weave the two together without losing myself.
"Most who host a fragment of something greater are consumed by it," she said. "You have survived this long because your will is stubborn. But stubbornness is not the same as control. You must learn to command the power within you, not merely endure it."
The sessions left me vomiting blood. They left me unconscious for hours. They left me wishing for the simple pain of broken bones.
But they worked.
I felt my soul expand, becoming more resilient. The Heart of ORT's influence shifted from a foreign invader to something closer to a symbiotic organ. I could feel its presence, but it no longer threatened to overwhelm me.
----------
As the months passed, the nature of my training evolved. Scáthach no longer needed to defeat me a hundred times a day. Now she defeated me fifty times. Then thirty. Then ten.
The gap was closing.
But more importantly, my skills were adapting. The System had noted the change:
[Skill Evolution Detected: Observe → Combat Analysis (A)][Skill Evolution Detected: Eye of Mind (C) → Eye of Mind (B)][New Subskill Unlocked: Spear Sense — allows prediction of spear trajectories through mana flow detection]
The System was not simply leveling me up. It was restructuring itself around the pressure Scáthach applied, creating new pathways for growth that hadn't existed before.
----------
One evening, after a session where I had managed to hold my own for nearly three minutes before being disarmed, Scáthach sat across from me by the fire in her castle hall. The flames cast long shadows across her face, and for a moment, she looked less like a goddess of war and more like a woman carrying an impossible weight.
"You have grown, Shirou," she said, her voice carrying none of the mockery from our early sessions. "Faster than I expected. Stronger than your foundation should allow."
"I had good teachers," I replied.
"You had teachers who pushed you to the edge of death and expected you to jump." She stared into the flames. "I have trained heroes for millennia. Cu Chulainn. Cú Roí. Ferdiad. Countless others whose names have been forgotten by history. Do you know what they all had in common?"
"They died," I said.
"Yes." Her voice was flat. "They died. Every single one. Some in glorious battle. Some in ignoble betrayal. Some old, some young. But all of them died, and I remained. That is the curse of my existence, Shirou. I am a teacher who outlives every student. A warrior who cannot die. A woman trapped in eternity, watching the flames of those she trained flicker and extinguish one by one."
I understood then. This was not self-pity. This was a statement of fact delivered by someone who had long since passed through grief into acceptance.
"Why do you keep teaching?" I asked.
"Because someone must." She met my eyes. "The world needs heroes. Even if they die. Even if it causes me pain. That is the burden of those who have power. We do not get to lay it down because it hurts."
I thought of Kiritsugu. Of the smile on his face as he died, having failed his dream. Of the weight of his ideals that I had inherited.
"I understand," I said. "I carry someone else's dream too. A man who wanted to save everyone but couldn't save himself. I've been trying to fulfill his wish ever since."
"And do you think you can?" Scáthach asked. "Save everyone?"
"No." The answer came without hesitation. "I've already failed. I couldn't save Kiritsugu. I couldn't save the people who died in the fires. I couldn't save everyone Chaos killed before I stopped him. But I can try to save as many as possible. I can build a world where fewer people have to die."
"A naive dream," Scáthach said, but there was no cruelty in her voice. "But perhaps that naivety is what makes you different. The heroes I trained sought glory. Revenge. Immortality. You seek to protect. That is... rarer than you might think."
She stood, turning away from the fire.
"Rest tonight," she said. "Tomorrow, we begin your final lesson."
----------
The next morning, Scáthach stood at the edge of her realm, where the sword-covered ground gave way to an endless void of purple mist. She held her spear—the original Gae Bolg, the one made from the branches of the Ash Tree, connected to Yggdrasil itself.
"Six months ago, you came to me as a child wielding power you could not control," she said. "Today, you stand as a warrior who has learned the foundations of mastery. But foundations are not enough."
She pointed her spear at me.
"Your final trial, Shirou Emiya, is this: you must surpass me completely. You must prove that you have learned everything I can teach. You must defeat me in combat—not through luck, not through a single powerful technique, but through the integration of everything you have learned."
Her eyes hardened.
"If you cannot, you will remain a student forever. Bound to this realm, training until the end of your days, never reaching the potential I see within you."
I felt the weight of her words. This was not a test of strength. This was a judgment of worth.
"I understand," I said.
"Do you?" She twirled her spear, the runes along its shaft glowing with ancient power. "I will not hold back, Shirou. I will fight you with the full intent to kill. If you cannot match that intent, you will die here, and I will have failed as a teacher one more time."
I projected my own Gae Bolg—the copy I had used in countless battles. It felt different now, after months of training. More familiar. More alive in my hands.
"I won't hold back either," I said.
Scáthach smiled. It was not warm. It was the smile of a warrior who had finally found an opponent worth killing.
"Good."
----------
**THE FINAL BATTLE**
She moved first.
I had never seen her fight at full speed before. The months of training had been her holding back, measuring my growth, never revealing the true extent of her power.
Now I saw it.
She was not a warrior. She was a natural disaster given human form. Her spear moved faster than my eyes could track, each strike carrying enough force to shatter mountains. The air itself screamed as she cut through it, the runes on her weapon flaring with each impact.
I blocked. Barely. The impact sent me skidding backward, my feet carving trenches in the sword-covered ground.
She did not give me time to recover. She was already there, spear descending, aiming for my heart.
I activated Space-Lock.
The world shifted. I separated us from reality, creating a bounded space where her momentum would be disrupted. But Scáthach had trained me in this technique—she knew its weaknesses.
She planted her foot and twisted, using the disruption to change her trajectory rather than fighting it. Her spear caught me across the ribs, and I felt bone crack.
[HP: 187,432/200,000]
I rolled with the impact, putting distance between us. My regeneration was already working, but I couldn't rely on it. She had taught me that against a true master, regeneration only prolonged death.
I needed to change the battlefield.
I reached inward and pulled.
My Reality Marble erupted outward, the sky of swords and gears pressing against the boundaries of Scáthach's domain. The world around us fractured, and for a moment, two realities existed in the same space.
Scáthach's eyes widened slightly. "You've been holding back."
"...I learned from the best."
I drew on the swords embedded in my Reality Marble, pulling them into the air around me. Each one was a recorded weapon, a memory of something I had traced or analyzed. I sent them at her in a storm of steel.
She laughed—a genuine, joyful sound—and began cutting them down.
But I wasn't trying to hit her. I was setting the field.
While she destroyed my projections, I was layering runes into the ground beneath us. Ansuz for communication with my weapons. Thurisaz for reactive destruction. Dagaz for transformation.
I activated them all at once.
The ground erupted in a grid of magical energy, each rune interacting with the others to create a bounded field within my Reality Marble. Scáthach found herself in a space where every sword was connected, every strike she made would be analyzed and countered.
"Clever," she admitted, her spear never stopping. "But you forget who taught you runes."
She slammed the butt of her spear into the ground, and her own runes flared—Ehwaz for movement, Sowilo for solar energy, Hagalaz for destructive disruption. My bounded field shattered.
I was already moving.
I closed the distance, Gae Bolg extended, pouring mana into the spear's death curse. The 12-second countdown of [The Goal Of Life Is Death] began on my hand.
Scáthach met my charge head-on.
Our spears clashed. Once. Twice. Three times. Each impact sent shockwaves through both our bodies. I felt my arms go numb, felt the strain on my circuits as I pushed more and more mana into each strike.
But I was keeping up.
I was actually keeping up.
She saw it in my eyes. The realization that I was no longer the student being pushed back. I was the equal meeting her force with force.
Her expression shifted. The last trace of teacherly restraint vanished.
She was now fighting to kill me.
Her spear became a blur of death. Every strike aimed for a vital point. Every feint designed to open me for a finishing blow. She moved like she had moved against Cu Chulainn in their final sparring session—with the full intent to end a life.
I should have been terrified.
Instead, I felt something click into place.
[Skill Evolution: Gamers Mind (EX) → Absolute Combat Clarity (EX)][Effect: Complete removal of combat hesitation. Full integration of combat analysis, instinct, and learned techniques into seamless action.]
The world slowed.
I saw her attack before she made it. Not through prediction—through understanding. I had spent six months learning her style, her tells, the way her weight shifted before each strike. My body had absorbed that knowledge even when my mind was too slow to process it.
Now, my mind caught up.
I sidestepped her thrust—the first time I had ever dodged one of her full-speed attacks—and brought my spear around in a counter-sweep that forced her to retreat.
She stared at me.
"You've integrated it," she said, almost breathless. "All of it. The techniques. The runes. The combat logic."
"I told you I learned from the best."
I pressed the attack.
I used everything. Spear techniques she had taught me, combined with the assassin-style precision I had learned from the First Hassan. Rune magecraft woven into each strike, enhancing my speed and power. My Reality Marble pulsing around us, providing a foundation of swords that I could draw on at any moment.
I used the recorded combat data from every battle I had ever fought—against Chaos, against Roa, against the Nameless Heroic Spirit. I fused them into a style that was uniquely mine.
Scáthach was pushed back for the first time in our entire training.
She recovered instantly, countering with a technique I had never seen—a spinning thrust that created a vortex of death mana around her spear. I recognized it as the technique she had used to kill divine spirits in the age of gods.
I didn't try to block it.
I used Imaginary Space Travel to phase through the attack, reappearing behind her with my spear already in motion. The death curse on my Gae Bolg activated, and I drove it through her shoulder.
She screamed—not in pain, but in fury.
She grabbed the blade of my spear with her bare hand, ignoring the blood that poured from her palm, and yanked me forward. Her other hand came up, runes blazing, and I felt a spell take hold of my body.
[Debuff Applied: Gae Bolg Binding — Movement reduced by 80%]
She had used my own weapon's binding curse against me.
I had one chance.
I released my Gae Bolg and projected a new one instantly—not a copy, but a weapon I had been building in my Reality Marble for months. A spear that combined the death curse of Scáthach's Gae Bolg with the structural integrity of my traced weapons, reinforced with the Heart of ORT's alien nature.
It had no name. It was not a Noble Phantasm. It was simply a weapon that existed because I needed it to.
I threw it.
The spear crossed the distance between us in an instant. Scáthach's eyes widened as she recognized what I had done—I had created a weapon that could bypass her defenses because I had built it using the principles she taught me.
It struck her center mass.
[Spell: The Goal Of Life Is Death — Countdown: 3... 2... 1...]
The curse activated.
Scáthach's body went rigid as the death concept took hold. She looked down at the spear protruding from her chest, then back at me.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
Then she smiled.
It was not the smile of a teacher proud of her student. It was the smile of a warrior who had finally found what she had been seeking for millennia.
"You did it," she said, her voice steady despite the blood pooling at her feet. "You surpassed me."
----------
**THE DEATH OF SCÁTHACH**
I caught her as she fell.
The spear dissolved—I had dismissed it the moment I realized what I had done. But the damage was done. The death curse had taken hold, and even Scáthach, the Witch of Dún Scáith, could not survive a curse designed to kill immortals.
"Don't," I said, my voice cracking. "I can—I have Avalon. I can heal you."
"No." Her hand gripped my arm with surprising strength. "You cannot heal what was meant to end. This curse... I designed it. I know its limits. There is no cure."
"Why?" The question tore out of me. "Why did you make me learn a technique that could kill you?"
"Because that was always the purpose." She coughed, blood staining her lips. "I have lived for thousands of years, Shirou. I have trained heroes who became legends and watched them all die. Do you know what I have never had?"
I shook my head.
"A student who could surpass me." Her eyes met mine, clear and unwavering. "A warrior who could take everything I taught and become something greater. You are the first, Shirou. The only one."
"I don't want to be the only one. I want you to—"
"To live?" She laughed, a soft, tired sound. "I have lived too long already. Immortality is not a gift, Shirou. It is a prison. You have given me the one thing no one else could."
"What?"
"An ending."
I felt tears streaming down my face. I didn't care. Let her see. Let her know that her death meant something to me.
"You were my best student," she said, her voice growing weaker. "Not because you were the strongest. Not because you learned the fastest. But because you never stopped trying to understand. You never settled for power without purpose."
"Scáthach—"
"Remember what I taught you." Her hand found mine, squeezing once. "Power without purpose is meaningless. Strength without compassion is tyranny. You have both, Shirou. Do not let the world take that from you."
"I won't."
"Good." Her eyes began to close. "Then my teaching was not in vain."
Her hand went limp.
The System notification appeared in my vision, but I couldn't read it through the tears. I held her body, feeling the warmth fade, feeling the weight of what I had done settle into my bones.
I had surpassed my teacher.
And I had killed her.
----------
I don't know how long I stayed there, holding her body in the endless field of swords. Time had lost meaning. The realm itself seemed to mourn, the sky darkening, the wind carrying a sound like a lament.
Eventually, I stood.
Her body remained, but I could feel her presence fading from the realm. The connection that had bound her to this place was dissolving. Soon, there would be nothing left but memory.
I looked at my hands. The same hands that had trained under her for six months. The same hands that had driven a spear through her heart.
[System Notification: Training Arc Complete]
[Scáthach — Witch of Dún Scáith — Status: DECEASED]
[Final Assessment: Mastery Achieved]
[New Title Unlocked: The Peerless Warrior]
[New Skills Acquired:[Scáthach's Teachings - EX][Spear Mastery - A+][Death Curse Resistance - A][Reality Marble: Training Grounds - B]]
[Item Acquired: Memory of the Witch — A crystallized fragment of Scáthach's final moments. Contains her combat knowledge and a single recorded message. Cannot be used to summon or contact her. It is a record, not a connection.]
I touched the item in my inventory. A small crystal, purple and silver, pulsing with a faint light. I could feel her presence within it—not alive, but preserved. A ghost of what she had been.
I activated it.
Her voice echoed in my mind, recorded in the moment before our final battle:
*"If you are hearing this, Shirou, then you have succeeded where every other student has failed. You have surpassed me. You have proven that my teaching was not wasted.*
*I have one final request.*
*Do not let my death be meaningless. Use what I have taught you to protect those you love. To build a world where fewer heroes have to die alone.*
*And if you find a way to reach beyond death—if the Grail or the Third Magic or some other power gives you the means—remember me. Not as a teacher you failed. But as a warrior who finally found her end.*
*That is all I ask.*
*Farewell, Shirou Emiya. You were worthy."*
The message ended.
I stood in the empty realm, surrounded by swords and silence, and made a vow.
I would find a way.
The Holy Grail War was approaching. The Third Magic—Heaven's Feel—was the power to materialize the soul. If I could reach it, if I could understand it, I might be able to do what had never been done before.
I would bring her back.
Not as a ghost. Not as a memory. But as a living woman, freed from the curse of immortality, able to live the life she had never been allowed to have.
It was a impossible goal.
But I had learned from Scáthach that impossible was just another word for "not yet."
----------
When I opened my eyes, I was back in my room at the Emiya Mansion. Arc was lying beside me, her arm draped over my chest. The System notification blinked in my vision:
[System Update Complete]
[Update Duration: 6 months (subjective time)]
[New Features Unlocked]
[Warning: World Quest timer has reached critical levels. 3 months remaining.]
[System: XP tracking active. World timer synchronized.]
I checked my Spirit Origin, and my eyes widened at the changes:
[Spirit Origin:
Name: Shirou Emiya
Title: Imaginary Sword → The Peerless Warrior
Level: 50 → 55[???/???]
Class: ForeignerAlignment: Neutral・Evil
HP: 150k->200k [regen 20k per min]
MP: 55k->80k
SP: 15k->25k [regen 12.5k per min]
ATK: 20k->35k
Points: 1,608,525->2,500,000]
[New Skills Acquired:
[Scáthach's Teachings - EX]
[Spear Mastery - A+]
[Death Curse Resistance - A]
[Reality Marble:???-E~EX (subsystem: Training Grounds-B)]]
I stared at the new title: "The Peerless Warrior." I had earned it. But the cost...
I opened my inventory and looked at the Memory of the Witch. The crystal sat there, a silent testament to what I had done and what I had lost.
I would not waste her sacrifice.
Arc stirred beside me, her eyes fluttering open. "Shirou... you're back."
"I am ... Home," I said, sitting up. "But I'm back now. And we have a lot to prepare for."
She nodded, her expression serious. "Roa is dead. Chaos is dead. But the Grail War is coming. And from what Zelretch said, this one will be different."
I knew what she meant. This Grail War would be the real one. The one that would determine the fate of Fuyuki. And I needed to be ready.
But more than that—the Grail War meant access to the Greater Grail. To the Third Magic. To a power that might let me reach beyond death and bring Scáthach back.
I had a new goal now.
Not just to survive the war. Not just to protect those I loved.
But to master the Grail's power and use it to restore the woman who had given me everything.
I stood up, stretching my newly enhanced body. The power thrummed through me, wild and refined at the same time. I had learned control from Scáthach. I had learned wisdom.
Now I needed to learn how to win a war—and how to cheat death itself.
As I reached for my phone to call Sakura, a notification appeared:
[Ding~ New Quest AvailableMain Quest: Prepare for the Holy Grail WarRewards: ???]
[Sub-Quest Unlocked: The Witch's ReturnObjective: Find a way to restore Scáthach using the Greater Grail or Third MagicRewards: ???]
I smiled grimly. The game was far from over. In fact, it was just beginning.
And I had a teacher to honor.
========================================================
[Spirit Origin:
Name: Shirou Emiya
Title: The Peerless Warrior
Level: 55[???/???]
Class: Foreigner
Alignment: Neutral・Evil
HP: 200k [regen 20k per min]
MP: 80kSP: 25k [regen 12.5k per min]
ATK: 35k
Points: 2,500,000
Familiar: Kyu Sugardust
Params:
STR: B
END: A+
VIT: A+
AGI: B+
MP: EX
LUK: C
NP: Anti-Fortress(A-Rank)]
[Skills:
[Gamers Mind-EX]
[Gamers Body-EX]
[Sword of Void-EX]
[Type ORT-EX]
[One Radiant Thing-EX]
[Imaginary Number Magecraft-A++]
[Seven Deadly Sins-A++]
[Perpetual Puberty-A+++]
[Kama Sutra-EX]
[Observe-EX]
[Pain Tolerance-EX]
[Avalon-EX]
[Reality Marble:???-E~EX (subsystem: Training Grounds-B)]
[Scáthach's Teachings-EX]
[Spear Mastery-A+]
[Death Curse Resistance-A]
[Anti-Evil (passive)]
[Archery-A]
[Cooking-EX]
[Technician-C]
[Magecraft-B]
[Eye of Mind-C]
[Anti Divinity-E]
[Phantom Flame]
[Modern Rune]
[High-speed incantation-A]
[Territory Creation(A)]
[Healing Magecraft]
[Magecraft: Light From The World's End]
[Lucid Link]
[Imaginary Space Travel-A]
[Magic Bullet]]
[Spells:
[Tracing]
[Reinforcement]
[Refresh]
[Flash Air]
[Clone Jutsu]
[Voidblast]
[Fireball]
[Eternal Blaze]
[The Goal Of Life Is Death]
[Turn Undead]
[Elastic Body]]
[Quests]:World Quest:->3 months left
Main Quest:
->Save Illyasviel von Einzbern (must heal her body). {rewards: 2M XP, Mana Output Increased By 100%, 100,000 points, 5SSR tickets}
->Help Rin Tohsaka Rebuild the Jeweled Sword Zelretch. {rewards: 1M XP, 50,000points, 3SSR tickets, Skill: Gatekeeper]
->Prepare for the Holy Grail War {Rewards: ???}
Sub-Quest:
->The Witch's Return: Find a way to restore Scáthach using the Greater Grail or Third Magic {Rewards: ???}
Character Quest:
->Increase your physical fitness
->Increase your magical fitness
->Increase your knowledge of the world and beings living there
->Learn/Improve skills
->Learn more about people you already have a relationship with
Side Quests:
->Upgrade Skill: Type ORT
->Find what happened during the Fourth Holy Grail War
->Find Tohsaka Tokomi's killer
->Unlock Excalibur Morgan True Name release.